


Memories of Suffering

by ChopinWorshipper



Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Gen, Internalized Homophobia, TW: Blood, TW: Domestic Violence, actually he needs a billion hugs, jekyll needs a hug, lady summers channels her inner mum, platonic friendship, tw: child abuse, tw: forced crossdressing, tw: graphic depiction of violence, tw: terrible parenting, tw: violence towards children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22699195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChopinWorshipper/pseuds/ChopinWorshipper
Summary: Lady Summers asks Jekyll to talk about his childhood. When she sees how torn he is, she tells him not to push himself to do it, but he does it anyway, because he likes to hurt himself.
Relationships: Dr. Henry Jekyll & Original Female Character (platonic), Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Memories of Suffering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moon_hedgehog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/gifts).



> Trigger warnings are in the tags. This is for moon_hedgehog, because ze likes angst way too much.

Jekyll feared the worst, when he came to his therapy session and saw Lady Summers' grave expression.

“Don't worry, nothing bad happened”, she assured him. “Nevertheless, we need to talk about something extremely unpleasant today.”

He sighed: “What part in the story of my life will it be today?”

“Your childhood, Doctor.”

_Damn right that's extremely unpleasant!_

Lady Summers sighed: “Doctor Jekyll, you knew that it was inevitable for me to bring it up sooner or later.”

“I know, I know. But … but it's so hard to even think about it.”

The Prussian's face was sad. “I know. And I understand. But if you talk about it and get it off your chest, it could help you get closure.”

He wanted to talk about it.

He didn't want to talk about it.

He wanted to pour his heart out to her.

He wanted to keep it in, ignore it and never think about it again.

She noticed his affliction and took his hand, gently stroking the palm with her thumb.

“It's alright. If you're not ready to talk about it right now, I'm giving you a few weeks. If you want Mr. Utterson and Dr. Lanyon to be there for support, I will let them know.”

“Thank you, Milady”, he replied warmly. “But … I think …”

“You want to do it now?”

He nodded.

“Are you sure?”, she queried.

Another nod.

“Dr. Jekyll, if you don't feel ready, you shouldn't push yourself to speak about it”, she warned.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “No. I want to get it over with. Get the worst parts about it off my chest.”

“Really? Are you certain that it won't be too painful now?”

He nodded again.

Lady Summers looked very doubtful (and rightfully so, he knew that), but she respected his decision.

“Alright”, she spoke. “Go on, then.”

Jekyll took a deep breath and began to talk.

_Not good enough._

_He was never good enough._

_His character wasn't good enough._

_His behaviour wasn't good enough._

_His grades weren't good enough._

_His art wasn't good enough._

_His piano play, dancing and singing weren't good enough._

_His Latin wasn't good enough._

_Nothing was good enough._

_And if he wasn't good enough, he would be punished._

_Even if he hadn't done anything wrong._

_Wait, no._

_He always did something wrong._

_Why else would they hate him so?_

_This time it was because of a photograph._

_His father was not pleased with how he had looked in it._

_But just posing for the picture had been a torture for the seven-year-old._

_He had tried to look as innocent as possible and pretend not to be in pain._

_For a while, things had been surprisingly peaceful, until the photographer had shown them the developed daguerrotype._

_His father was looking at the viewer like a poster picture gentleman, while his mother was looking down at her son with wide eyes and he himself was looking at the photographer with an earnestly innocent expression, trying to mask his pain._

_James Jekyll had punished both his wife and son._

_His wife for the nasty grimace that didn't look at all like a perfect wife and mother was supposed to look like._

_His son for “not looking childish and innocent enough”. And for the shivering. He had shivered from fear and pain, because both of his parents had nearly squelched his shoulders._

_But trembling wasn't allowed._

_Half an hour later Henry's nanny was tending to his bloodied back, while he was crying and whimpering into the pillow._

_His father never stopped beating him until his back bled._

“ _Monsters!”, the elderly woman hissed, “Someone should lock them away and throw away the key!”_

_But no one would dare to arrest his parents, because they were good and always right, no one would believe him._

_For the next weeks he was unable to lie on his back._

_Of course his father would slap his sore back, just to hurt him._

_But that was fine, because it was normal and he deserved it anyway._

_Henry tried not to scream, when his mother pulled him out from under his bed._

_But it hurt so much and so he couldn't help but wail, as she pulled him to his feet by the hair._

“ _YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BRAT!!!”, she screamed, “YOU SINFUL CREATURE! YOU LOWLY SINNER!”_

“ _I'm sorry, Mama”, he sobbed, not knowing what he was apologising for, “I'll never do it again-”_

“ _SILENCE, YOU DEMON!!!”_

_She struck him across the face._

“ _YOUR FATHER TOLD YOU TO GET DRESSED UP WITHIN TEN MINUTES EARLIER AND HOW LONG DID YOU NEED?!_ TWELVE _!!!”_

“ _I-I'm sorry, Mama-”_

_She struck him again._

_That was all she ever did, when they weren't in public._

_Strike him, pull his hair, scream and throw things at him, lock him into the cellar … just like his father._

“TWELVE _MINUTES!!! THAT JUST SHOWS WHAT A TERRIBLE CHILD YOU ARE! WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE A BRAT LIKE YOU?! YOU SPAWN OF SATAN! YOU SPAWN OF POSSESSION! YOU LAZY, DISOBEDIENT, UNRELIABLE, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING-”_

_Someone clearing his throat distracted her._

_Arthur Poole was standing in the door, frowning at the scene._

“ _Your husband is asking for you, Madam”, the butler informed her calmly._

_Clara Jekyll huffed, let her son go and stormed out of the nursery._

_Henry, now free from his mother's cruel grip, sank to his knees and cried._

_Poole took the child in his arms and stroked his head soothingly._

“ _What a monster”, the man muttered, “Abusing a ten-year-old child like that. You poor, dear boy. You deserve better than this.”_

_Henry wanted to believe him, he really did._

_But he couldn't._

_Not when his parents were right and let him know it almost every day._

_He was scum and he deserved everything he got._

_Sometime later his mother had called him to the parlour and he had already readied himself for a world of hurt._

_But when he got there, his mother's face was murderous._

“ _A little birdie told me that you don't respect the sanctity of marriage”, she snarled and he saw her hand wander to a huge book on the table._

“ _Is that true, you spawn of Satan? YOU SPAWN OF POSSESSION?!”_

“ _No, Mama-”_

“ _IT IS TRUE!!! I KNEW IT!!! OH, YOU SHOULD BE EXORCISED! IF I COULD I WOULD BANISH YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL!!! BEGONE, SATAN!!!”_

_Then she threw the book at him._

_Henry dodged it and ran for his life, before she could abuse him some more._

_When Henry found out that he had … unnatural, sinful desires, his first impulse was to kill himself._

_He didn't know how it had happened, but one day he realised that his feelings for his two best friends weren't normal._

_Why the hell did he look at them and wanted to do inappropriate things with them?! Why did he want to touch them, kiss them, love them, court them … share his bed with them?!_

_That was disgusting!_

_Utterson and Lanyon were his friends and all three of them were boys!_

_So why the hell was he having these disgusting, sinful desires?!_

_But he wouldn't give into them._

_He would NOT give into them!_

_When he was sixteen, his parents found out that he had lost his purity a few months earlier._

_Their reaction was even worse than he had anticipated._

_His mother had screamed at him for hours and slapped him until his cheeks were nearly bleeding._

_That was normal so far._

_But his father had given him the worst beating of his lifetime, had punched and kicked him in every spot that wasn't his face, until he was lying on the floor, whimpering in pain and spitting blood._

_At this point he rarely even heard the terrible things his parents were saying._

_But that wasn't even the worst._

_He had been bedridden for a week and just begun to get better, when his infuriated mother had dragged him out of bed and into her own room._

_At first he had been confused what he was supposed to do here, but then she threw some of her own clothes at him._

“ _PUT THEM ON, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE WHORE!!!”, she yelled, “SO THAT EVERYONE CAN SEE WHAT A DISGRACEFUL SLUT YOU ARE, LUSTING AFTER WOMEN AND MEN!!! DO IT, YOU DEMON!!!”_

_He froze in horror._

_Then he fell onto his knees and begged: “No! Please, no! Mother, please, don't-”_

“ _DON'T CALL ME MOTHER!!! AN IMMORAL DEMON LIKE YOU ISN'T MY SON!!!”, she shrieked and struck him twice._

_Then he had been forced into his mother's evening dress._

_The dress was ugly, hardly fit him, the corset was laced so tightly that he could hardly breathe, his mother's shoes were too small for him and he was still sore and in pain from the beating a week earlier._

_And that was only a part of the torture._

_After breakfast, where his father had just looked at him in disgust, they had paraded him around the small town that was their home._

_Had shown him around in a dress so everyone could mock him and laugh at him._

_Then they had dragged him home and he had received another vicious beating._

_And all of this, just because he wasn't a virgin anymore._

Jekyll stopped.

He couldn't go on any further.

Partly because talking about these memories was becoming too painful, but mainly because he was currently crouched on the floor with Lady Summers, sobbing hysterically into her lap and unable to talk at all.

He felt so dirty and worthless, just when he thought about it all.

He could feel the bruises and the wounds inflicted on his body, hear his mother's furious shrieking, see his father's cruel gaze-

Lady Summers was gently petting his head and back and cooing words of comfort in both English and German.

Lying curled up on the carpet and crying into a noblewoman's black skirt would have been beyond humiliating, if it hadn't been _her_.

With this lady, it was fine.

Jekyll wasn't quite sure how long he had been crying, before it occurred to him that maybe he should stop and leave, before her next client came.

“Don't worry”, the Prussian assured him, “You're my last client for the afternoon. Cry all you want.”

Her voice sounded strangely hoarse and when he looked up, he was surprised to find that she was crying with him.

“Now that was one hell you went through, wasn't it, Doctor?”, she asked sadly. She cupped his cheek with one tiny hand and stroked it gently, wiping the tears away.

“Oh, my poor, dear friend. Listen, Dr. Jekyll”, she spoke gently, “No matter what your parents told you, you deserved none of this.”

“But … I really am-”

“No. No child deserves to be treated like this, especially not by their parents. And nothing of what they told you is true, never was. You were not a bad child. They were just horrible parents – scratch that, they don't even deserve to be called parents. Parents are supposed to be loving, encouraging and nurturing, not barbarous and abusive like yours. They should have gone to prison for what they did to you.”

“But I'm still a horrible son!”, he sobbed, “Right after my father died … I put my mother into the Bethlem Hospital and told everyone that she had gone mad from grief! She's still there and I never even went to visit her, I-”

Lady Summers raised an eyebrow. “Hush. That doesn't make you a bad son. After her behaviour and all the terrible things she and your father did to you, it was a perfectly human and reasonable thing to do. And I do not say this lightly.”

She continued stroking his cheek and rubbing his shoulders.

Jekyll leaned into her touch. It was so warm and caring.

He wanted more, he _needed_ more, he needed the Lady's mellow lisp to banish his mother's screeching from his head, needed her gentle hands to make him forget his parents' brutal strikes and kicks, needed her tender words to erase his parents' cruel tirades of hatred.

_Please give me more, I need more, please give me the motherly warmth I have never known, help me, be there for me, hug me, hold me, dry away my tears, tell me that everything will be fine, pet my chest and my back until I can breathe, please give me warmth, pet my head and stroke my hair, treat me like I'm precious, like I deserve to be cared for by you and the other three, please forgive me for being so childish and needy, I don't deserve you, I'm so sorry, I know that I'm asking for too much from my friends and you're younger than me and far above me, but please, I need it-_

“Shhh. It's okay”, she cooed, “You're not below me, you never were. We all ask for too much from our friends sometimes, but right here and now, you're not. Let it all out. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here. Your parents can't hurt you anymore.”

“ _They can't hurt you anymore.”_

For so long his logic had told him this, but it was only when Lady Summers said these words out loud, that he finally was able to believe it.

He looked up to her with a smile. “Thank you”, he croaked. “Thank you so much.”

She smiled back fondly. “Hey now. That's what I do, isn't it?”

“No, seriously. You're … I don't know what I have done to deserve someone like you. Have I ever told you what a wonderful friend you are?”

The tiny Prussian chuckled: “No, Dr. Jekyll. But you can tell me as often as you like.”

“Well, you are. You're an amazing friend. And … thank you for humouring me and Hyde on this. I promise, this is not going to become a habit. I don't see you as a motherly figure, but-”

“I know. And it doesn't matter. It's fine”, she interrupted him gently. “Everything is fine.”

Jekyll leaned into the hand that was running its fingers through his hair. Suddenly, exhaustion settled in with a vengeance.

“I'm so tired …”

“Then sleep”, she cooed. “That couch over there is big enough for you.”

The two stood with some effort (Jekyll helped the Lady up) and she led him over to the couch.

He lay down and covered himself with the blanket.

Then he thought of something.

It was embarrassing to ask – he was fifty years old, not five!

But …

“Of course I will sing that song for you”, Lady Summers laughed kindly.

She sat next to him, took his hand and began to sing softly:

“ _Guten Abend, gut' Nacht!_

_Mit Rosen bedacht,_

_mit Näglein besteckt,_

_schlupf unter die Deck'!_

_Morgen früh, wennn Gott will,_

_wirst du wieder geweckt,_

_Morgen früh, wenn Gott will,_

_wirst du wieder geweckt._

_Guten Abend, gut' Nacht!_

_Von Englein bewacht,_

_die zeigen im Traum_

_dir Christkindleins Baum._

_Schlaf nun selig und süß,_

_schau im Traum 's Paradies._

_Schlaf nun selig und süß,_

_schau im Traum 's Paradies.“_

By the time she was finished, he was sleeping soundly and peacefully.

She sang the song once more, then went upstairs to make a phone call. She had to tell Mr. Utterson to pick up his lover later, after all.

When the black-haired lawyer came to pick his blond lover up, he found him still sleeping on the couch.

Utterson's eyes softened immediately.

“Milady”, he whispered, “I'm afraid I can't find it in my heart to wake him up.”

“Well, I'm not waking him up either”, she whispered back. “You're his sweetheart, you wake him up.”

“No, you wake him up!”

“No, you!”

And this whispered argument continued until the Doctor woke up by himself.


End file.
